A/N: Happy Sunday! I'm glad you enjoyed the curveball of Mr Gold, even if it was anticipated by some of you!
"How's she doing?" Regina asked as she passed a steaming cup of tea to Emma who had just walked back into the kitchen after checking on her housemate.
The blonde shrugged, took a sip of the drink and winced as the hot liquid scalded her mouth. "She hasn't said a word since she got back. She's just sitting on her bed, staring at the wall opposite. I think she's in shock which is totally understandable but I'm worried for her. I don't really know what to do, how to help."
"I guess she just needs some time. It's a lot to process," Regina reasoned, blowing across the surface of her own cuppa.
"How are you?" Emma asked, sliding onto the bar stool beside Regina.
"Me? Fine. I mean, compared to Belle."
"Yes but it must have been pretty intense back at the restaurant. To be honest, I'd spent so much time thinking about how to make sure you didn't run into Killian, I hadn't really thought about all of the men who -."
Neither woman needed the end of the sentence to be spoken aloud. Regina knew that Emma was wondering how many men there were walking around London who'd paid to have sex with her girlfriend. One hundred? Two hundred? More? She didn't want to know. And Regina wouldn't have wanted to tell her, even if she did know. Which she didn't. She'd stopped counting after fifty and that had been in her fourth month in the country.
"Well, if tonight is anything to go by, they won't recognise me even if I do pass them in the street," Regina said, matter of factly. It was, she had decided, a relief to learn that one of her regulars hadn't recognised her. It gave her a shroud of protection she hadn't been expecting and for which she felt strangely grateful. It didn't work the other way, unfortunately, but at least if she ever did walk past one of them in the street, the chance of them clocking who she was appeared to be minimal.
Emma took another sip of her tea which had cooled slightly. "So, do you mind if I ask you something?" She looked sideways and continued when Regina nodded. "He called you Roni. Is that the name you used with the men?"
"Yes. Killian doesn't let us use our own names when we're with men. I think he said it was for our protection but actually I think it's so that we can't be identified to the police and to make it harder for us to be tracked down by our families. Plus, I think having a different name helped me in a strange way."
"Helped how?"
Regina ran her finger around the rim of the mug, considering her answer. "It allowed me to be two different people," she said eventually. "When I was with the men, I was Roni. She was separate from me, from who I really am. I suppose it was like playing a character, one which wasn't tied to my true identity. And for most of the time, I was able to keep believing that one day I wouldn't have to be Roni any more."
"Most of the time?"
"Towards the end I think I was starting to think I would never get out. It had been over a year. I had so many regular clients. The routine of seeing them like clockwork made me think it would never end, that I was now stuck in the system. I guess it got harder to differentiate between Roni and Regina in those last few months, especially as my addiction meant I was shooting up more often. In the beginning, only Roni used but over time, it became Regina's habit too. The lines were blurring and then, well, you showed up."
Emma forced a smile because she knew Regina thought she had turned the narrative around and given herself a happy ending, with Emma has her rescuer. And yet Emma's heart splintered once more as she gleaned another sliver of insight into the woman's time with her cruel uncle. She knew Regina didn't want nor need to see how much it hurt Emma to hear these stories. Hell, compared to actually living them, she knew she had no right to complain. But she still hated it.
"You never, ever have to be Roni again," Emma said, squeezing Regina's hand.
"I know but she is part of me. She's part of my past, at least. What Roni did, what she went through will always be something I have to live with and something which I think about."
"Do you think about that time often?" Emma asked. "I mean, I know it's only been a few months and I'm sure your memories are still pretty vivid but is it something you think about every day?"
"Every day, yes. All day, no," Regina admitted. "When it's just you and me, as long as we're not talking about the case or something, I hardly ever think about it. You're a very pleasant distraction and I don't find my mind wandering there when we're together. It's worse when I'm alone. My brain takes over and replays certain memories on a loop and I've not yet managed to stop it."
"I wish I never had to leave you."
Regina smiled softly. "That's sweet but unrealistic and also kinda clingy," she replied, allowing Emma to let out a chortle which broke through the gloomy atmosphere which had been clouding the room.
"Well, I can see that me being with you twenty-four seven might be a bit much but I would if I could, and if you wanted me to be, just FYI. And, by the way, even if I'm not with you, if you need distracting or want me to take your mind off things, just call."
"I will, thank you. But it's getting better. I think about it less and less every day. And once the trial is over and my residence permit is renewed and tied to a job, I'm sure what happened will fade from memories. I mean, I'll never forget what I went through but I don't think I'll think about it every day. At least, I hope not."
Emma desperately wanted to talk to Regina more about her reference to a job. They'd had a few conversations about what the brunette wanted to do in the future and whether she'd choose to remain in the UK or return to Puerto Rico. The last time they'd talked, Regina had still not decided. Now, however, it sounded like she was thinking more and more about a London-based life. But Emma knew this wasn't the time to discuss such matter, so forced herself to respond to the main conversation.
"I hope you don't have to keep remembering those things really, really soon. And I don't want to drag that process our and I also don't want to talk about this if you're not ready but do you think we should tell my dad about Mr Gold? He could be prosecuted."
Regina frowned. "What for? Paying for sex is legal in England." That was something Killian had told her on her first night, in the context of threatening her not to try and go to the police because what she and the men were doing was entirely legal. He'd even shown her a site on his phone which cited the particular law. Emma elaborated when she saw the confusion.
"Paying for sex is legal if the person you're paying isn't being trafficked. You weren't participating by choice and I bet Mr Gold knew that. And even if he didn't, it's a strict liability offence."
Regina's frown deepened. "Strict liability? What does that mean?"
"It holds someone responsible even if they didn't know that they were doing something illegal. Like handling stolen goods. If you buy something which is stolen, you can be charged even if you didn't steal it in the first place. The fact that it's in your possession means you're responsible. It's the same with sex trafficking and the men who pay for sex. Although paying for sex isn't illegal, paying someone who doesn't want to have sex for money is illegal. I mean, when I say it like that, it's the definition of rape, right?"
"How do you know all this?" Regina asked.
"My dad," Emma shrugged. "Anyway, just something to think about. I know the trial for Killian is the most important thing because that will make sure no other women are trafficked. But pressing charges against Mr Gold will also send a message to men like him who buy sex from women who don't want to be selling it."
"You're going to the police about Robert?"
Regina and Emma turned to see Belle standing in the doorway. Her eyes were red rimmed from crying, skin pale.
"Hey, how are you feeling?" Emma asked. "Shall I make you a cup of tea? Or are you hungry? We left the restaurant before we even ordered. Do you want me to rustle up something for dinner?"
Belle ignored the questions. "Are you going to turn Robert in to the police?" she asked, directing her inquiry to Regina.
"I … I'm not sure yet," Regina admitted. "Emma only just told me it would be possible to do so and that there are charges which could be brought against him."
"Do it." Belle's voice was monotone but firm. "Tell them everything. He has to pay for what he's done."
"Belle, are you sure? I don't have to. I mean, he wasn't one of the bad guys. If it's not what you want, I won't say anything to the cops," Regina said, the words tumbling from her lips before she'd even had the chance to process them. She realised that they were true however. There had been men far worse than Mr Gold, and even though that didn't negate what he had done, she still would have been willing to keep silent if Belle had asked her to.
The brunette nodded shortly, however, before stalking over to the hob. "I'm going to cook something. I'm starving. What do you guys feel like?"
Emma and Regina exchanged concerned glances. Regina shrugged, indicating that she had no idea what to say. "Um, just something simple is fine. Pasta, maybe?" Emma suggested.
Pans were pulled out of cupboards and moments later, a pan of water was plonked on top of the ring, salt sprinkled liberally in before the lid was returned.
"Belle, are you ok?" Emma asked, concern for her friend growing by the second.
"Of course. It's just pasta. I know I don't cook much but even I can do a dish as simple as this."
"I meant about what happened this evening. I can't even imagine how you must be feeling."
"Yeah, well, I'm not feeling great," Belle said breezily as she pulled out a jar of pesto from the fridge and inspected it for mould. There were always half finished jars in the shared fridge and it was always wise to check whether the delicious goop had gone furry since it was last used. "But compared to Regina, I -." She spun around and looked directly at the brunette perched next to Emma. "Regina, I'm so sorry. If I'd have known I would never have invited you to dinner. I mean, I would never have been with him in the first place but I would never have made you meet with a man who … did that to you."
Regina shook her head. "Belle, you don't have anything to be sorry for. I'm sorry. I mean, I know I didn't do anything exactly but I'm sorry for your situation."
All three women looked down at Belle's stomach. Neither Emma and Regina said a word. Belle paused then went back to the fridge where she pulled out a block of parmesan which she set about grating.
"Let me do that," Emma offered, reaching across the counter and pulling the grater, plate and cheese over to her which Belle willingly relinquished.
With nothing else to do, Belle leaned against the counter, waiting for the water to boil. The only sound in the kitchen was the shearing off of the cheese which Emma continued far beyond the amount they needed if only for something to focus on. Eventually, she had to concede that there was more grated cheese than it would be possible for them to use, and wrapped the significantly depleted block in its packaging. Belle took it and returned it to the fridge.
"I'm keeping it."
"The cheese?" Emma asked.
"The baby. I want a baby, I want my baby. I don't care who the father is. I just … I've decided and I want this child."
"Ok," Emma said at once. "Of course. It's your child, your body, your choice. Whatever you want to do, I support you, Belle."
"Me too," Regina chimed in. "I mean, I know you don't know me that well but I'm here for you."
Belle's hazel eyes were filled with tears as she turned around to face the two women who sat before her. "Thank you," she said as the tears began to fall. "I'm sorry, I know this isn't the evening any of us thought it would be. I really appreciate you both being here and I'm so sorry I brought Robert into our lives. I … if I'd've known, I would never have dated him."
"We know that," Emma assured. "None of this is for fault. And it's not the baby's fault either. If you want to become a mother and you feel like you're ready to do this without a man but with three awesome flatmates to help out, then that's amazing and I'm really excited for you. Something good can come out of this."
"And he can go to prison, right?"
Emma looked at Regina who nodded imperceptibly. "I'll speak with my dad tomorrow. It's an offence I know can be charged. I just don't know how it'll work with the ongoing case against the men in charge. My guess is there'll be an opportunity for him to cut a deal if it strengthens the department's main case. But I'll let my dad tell us more. Belle, are you sure about that? I mean, regardless of what he's done, he is the father of your baby."
"He's the sperm donor," Belle replied shortly. "Nothing more. I don't want him to be involved in my child's life. I don't want him in my life. Tell the police. He needs to pay for what he did to Regina."
"Ok," Emma said quietly. "Ok."
They fell quiet until the lid on the pot started to rattle, informing the trio that the water was boiling.
A/N: Shout out to eoneye on AO3 for their awesome information about visas/residential permits for victims of human trafficking. Endlessly impressed with my readers' incredible knowledge!